


Legacy

by orenjikitty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Mild Angst, RocketSmith, angela is Torb's niece, kids being kids, minor mercymaker, pregancy tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orenjikitty/pseuds/orenjikitty
Summary: Brigitte, through the years





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this before her age/bio reveal. I have it that Brigitte is Torb's eldest daughter, that she is 7 years younger than Angela, only 2 years younger than Fareeha. So she is 30. The rest of the kids from the Christmas comic are her siblings, Marta (the second oldest in my eyes) is at least 7 years younger than Brigitte

The baby’s cries filled the room, Torbjorn waking up at the sound as did Ingrid. He kissed his wife, whispering that he will take care of it as he made his way out of their room and into the adjacent one.

Brigitte. His little Brigitte. Torbjorn switched out the claw he had fashioned to the flesh-like prosthetic that was outside of the baby’s room, picking up the crying baby to rock her gently. “I got you my dear, I got you,” he said as the crying turned into whimpers. “Papa will always be here for you. Don’t worry.”

Brigitte stopped, bright green eyes looking up at him expectantly and he knew why she was fussing. “One bottle, coming right up.”

* * *

“Uncle!” Angela called out, small plate of apple pie in her hands as she looked around the backyard. “Uncle Torbjorn!”

“Back here!” she heard him say, the sounds of Torbjorn’s laughter mixed with baby giggles and rock music from before Angela’s (and she was sure, before Uncle Torb’s) time. She rounded the corner to the shed, eyebrow quirking as she watched her uncle, Brigitte strapped to his chest, play the air guitar in time with the song. Brigitte giggled, hand clapping as she was bounced around, Torbjorn laughing at Brigitte’s claps. “What?”

“Aunt Ingrid said to come in. She made us some pie.”

“Hear that, little one? Mama made us some pie! Let’s get you some!” Torbjorn said, Brigitte squealing with delight when she saw the piece Angela was holding.

“I don't think 13 month old babies should be eating pies and cakes, Uncle.”

Torbjorn frowned at his niece before shaking his head. “Where do you think you got that sweet tooth from? I fed you candy canes when you were her age.”

“Uncle Torbjorn!”

* * *

Angela read over her school work, twirling her pencil in her fingers as she made sure all of her answers were correct. She frowned as she found a mistake, erasing the entire problem to start all over again.

“Papa,” she heard from beside her, making her whip her head to her cousin. “Papa!”

“Auntie Ingrid!” Angela yelled, grabbing Brigitte out of the high chair, making sure to hold on to her tightly as she brought her out to the backyard. “Auntie! Auntie!” Ingrid looked over behind the sheet she was putting up, ready to ask when Brigitte repeated it again.

“Papa!” Ingrid dropped the linen basket, gasping as she walked over to her daughter and niece. “Papa!”

“Can you say ‘Mama’, Brigi?” Angela urged, the 8, soon to be 9 year old asked, in tears at the development of her young cousin.

Mumbles spilled from the girl as she was picked up by her mother into a hug. Ingrid pulled Angela close as they cried tears of joy, Brigitte repeating the only word she can say thus far. “Let’s go call your Uncle. I’m sure he’ll want to hear of this news.”

* * *

Reinhardt grinned as Brigitte wobbled her way over to him. “She’s grown! She is strong.”

“She’s your goddaughter,” Torbjorn said, shaking his head as he kept in step with Brigitte.

“Thinking of more?” Reinhardt asked, scooping up the girl to toss her in the air. “Do you want more siblings, Brigi? Do you?”

“Papa!” Brigitte’s laughter filled the room, Angela peeking out to see what was going on, Brigitte seeing her cousin and making her squirm in Reinhardt’s grasp. “Agi! Agi!”

“Eventually,” Torbjorn replied, looking at Ingrid and giving her a smile. “Eventually.”

* * *

 

 

“This is a place of work! Not a day care!” Jack grumbled as both Fareeha and Brigitte looked up at him from the tower they were building, Angela looking up from her school work before shaking her head, burying her face into _Advanced Functions_ textbook.

“They’re confined here, why does it matter?” Torbjorn asked, putting down his wrench.

“Place of work, Torbjorn.” Jack repeated himself, wincing as the tower crashed, Fareeha’s “uh oh” being heard as Brigitte looked up.

Torbjorn shook his head, blowing past the man to look at his daughter and her new friend. “What do we say when things fall, Brigi?”

“BUILD ‘EM UP! BREAK THEM DOWN!” the 3 year old exclaimed, happily leading Fareeha to pick up the fallen Duplo blocks to stack them again. “Papa, you help?”

Torbjorn looked back at Jack, back to Angela who was watching the entire scene before smiling at Brigitte and Fareeha. “Of course I’ll help! Where do you need me?”

Jack huffed as he left, but Angela smiled as she watched her uncle entertain the two children left in his care until Ana could take over later.

* * *

“Papa,” Brigitte said, looking up from her maths sheet she was given at school. “Is Angela my sister?”

“She’s your cousin, little one,” Torbjorn replied, looking over the specs of Reinhardt’s hammer and how he can possibly improve it.

“Where are Uncle Peter and Aunt Lynette then?”

Torbjorn sighed, Brigitte looking at him intently. “Long ago, there was a war. A battle. I was in it, Reinhardt was in it. Ana and Jack and Gabe were in it. Even Mama was in it.” Torbjorn stopped, opening the drawer he had in the workshop to show Brigitte a photo; Lynette and Ingrid, sisters smiling side by side, showing off the red cross patches on the side of their arms. “Auntie and Uncle were in the front lines of the battle. They sent Angela here, to be safe with us because where they were...it wasn’t safe.”

“What happened to them?”

Torbjorn sighed. He didn’t want to lie to his 5 year old daughter but at the same time….

“They died,” another voice said, both of them turning to see Angela by the doors. “My mama and papa died, saving others.” Angela clenched the biology book tighter in her hands. “I...I want to save others. I want to prevent what happened to them from happening to other kids. I’m going to save others and be a doctor just like them. I’m going to help them and everyone and…”

Torbjorn hugged his niece tightly, Angela’s sobs soaking his shirt as Brigitte joined in hugging her cousin, her own tears falling from her face.

* * *

“Angela…” Brigitte whispered as she crawled into the older girl’s bed. Angela turned away, groaning. “Angela!”

“What, Brigi?” Angela asked, looking at the clock on the wall before letting out a groan. “It’s 5 am….Brigi go back to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna! I wanna go to the workshop.”

“Then go to the workshop...”

“I can't be in there without you.”

“Why do you want to go in there anyways?”

“I want to work on my project! I wanna be like Papa and Reinhardt! I want to build stuff! Stuff that can help people! Like you want to. You always say that everyone can be a catalyst for change, young or old. So come on!”

Angela groaned, turning to look at her cousin. “I hate it when you use my words against me.”

“I don't know what a catalyst is…” the 6 year old admitted.

Angela sighed. There was no point of going back to bed now, even if it was the first day of her summer holidays. “Fine...Get dressed and we’ll go.”

“Yay!”

* * *

“Is it done yet?” Fareeha asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve. The 9 year old stood on her tiptoes as she watched Brigitte climbed on sat on top of the stool, tightening the last screw into place

“Is it done yet?” Brigitte mimicked, sticking out her tongue as she fiddled with the device on her father’s desk. Pressing the button on, the device came to life, a miniature version of Reinhardt’s back jet on the desk, Fareeha and Brigitte high-fiving at their joint achievement. “Told you we can do it.”

“Do what?” Both girls whipped around to see Ana looking at them, hand on her hip as she walked over to them.

“Nothing.” Both of them said in unison, Brigitte hiding the device behind her back.

“If it’s nothing, then why are you hiding it?” Ana asked, holding out her hand. Fareeha looked at Brigitte, the younger girl’s eyes standing defiant. “Brigitte….”

“It’s a backpack!” Fareeha cried out. “A jet backpack.”

“Fareeha!” Brigitte yelled, putting the device back on the table to punch the older girl on the shoulder. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“That’s my ami, Brigi!”

“Enough!” Ana cried, separating the two. “Both of you. Out of the lab. Brigi, Uncle Reinhardt is going to take you home. Fareeha. I want you in changed to your gi the next time I see you. Go.”

“Yes, ami.”

“Yes, Ms. Amari.”

Ana watched as both girls filed out of the room, the door shutting before she turned to look back at the device, turning it on only to see it flare in a familiar blue jet. She looked over the design, the schematics both girls had done up, noting some familiar penmanship on some of it. Of course Torbjorn and Reinhardt would have approve of this endeavour.

Shaking her head, she placed the device back down, taking a nearby pencil to add her own note to the blueprints.

_No. You guys are not endangering live cats in an attempt to make them fly. No matter how much Frauline Brunhilde, Not Grumpy Jack and Rollie agrees with it, don’t do it. - Ana._

* * *

“NO NO NO! N! O! NO!” Torbjorn cried out as giggles filled the workshop. “Brigitte! How many times do I have to tell you -”

“Papa look!” Brigitte held up the small box she had made, Torbjorn taking it into his hands. It was of solid construction, angled perfectly to make a cube. The latch at the front and the hinges were all screw in appropriately. He recognized the wood as some of the ones he had discarded for his costume, red ashwood cut perfectly, too perfectly for a small child to have done so.

Torbjorn looked at the young girl in front of him and the teenager by the door. Angela shook her head, pointing at Brigitte, Torbjorn understanding what she meant. He chuckled, taking note of the clean finish and the small ironclad symbol drawn on top. “You made this?” He asked, getting a happy nod from his daughter. “Who did you make this for?”

“My future wife!” Brigitte exclaimed, Angela stifling a laugh at the girl’s proclamation. “That’s the box I’m gonna put her ring in, to propose to her.”

Torbjorn was taken back but couldn’t help the smile that now graced his face. “Well, if you’re sure, then I think you need my help on making that ring.”

Brigitte’s eyes lit up, Angela looking like she was about to say something but Torbjorn waved her concerns away. “Lindholms…” he heard from the teen as she moved to her own little corner of the workshop.

“You’re one of us too, you know!”

“I know, Uncle. I know.”

* * *

Brigitte slumped on the kitchen counter, huffing loud enough to catch the attention of her cousin and mother. “I’m bored.”

“Go play outside then,” Ingrid suggested, moving as fast as she could with a baby bump. “Angie could you pass that to me.” Angela nodded, reaching up to grab the flour her aunt was pointing to. Ingrid let out a pained sigh, giving Angela a smile before moving back to where she had the cake mix started.

Another pained sigh and Brigitte watched her mom closely. “Mama, are you okay?”

“Yeah it’s just argggghhhh,” Ingrid screamed, hand tightening around the flour bag, spilling some of its contents to the floor. “Angela….she’s coming.”

“WHAT?!” Angela yelled, dropping her water bottle on the counter as she went to grab hold of her aunt. “Brig! Call an taxi! _Breathe, Auntie Ingrid, Breathe_.”

“Angie…”

“Brig. Listen to me,” Angela said, guiding her aunt to the couch, looking up at the clock as Ingrid let out another scream. “Mama is about to give birth to Victoria. She needs not just my help but your help too, okay?” Brigitte nodded, Angela hugging her cousin to reassure her everything will be okay. “I need you to call the taxi. Then I need you to grab the bag from the coat closet and put it by the door and put your shoes and jacket on, okay? I need to watch over your Mama and get Marta ready.”

“Okay!”

* * *

Torbjorn walked into the room, all the women of his life sleeping soundly. Brigitte and Marta were curled up on the couch, Angela slumped in front of the couch, head resting on the couch proper. Brigitte held her sister tightly, Marta doing the same.

In the nursery, Victoria was sleeping soundly. Torbjorn smiled at the sight of his new born, his 3rd daughter. “Hi,” Ingrid said softly, his wife’s eyes looking tired but happy. “You’re late.”

“You were early,” Torbjorn replied, climbing up onto the bed to give Ingrid a kiss. “The nurses told me about Angela and Brigi.”

“They make a good team,” Ingrid said. “Angela reminds me so much of Lynette. So much of Peter….She’s ready Torbjorn. She’s more than ready but she feels like she’s not.”

Torbjorn sighed, looking over at the two girls. “Brigi’s gonna miss her.”

“I know. But Angela needs to find her own path. We’ve done all we could here. She’s already more than capable,” Ingrid bowed to where Victoria was sleeping. “She helped with her. She helped deliver her cousin at 16.”

Torbjorn sighed, hugging Ingrid tightly. “Victoria Angelina,” he whispered. “Goes well with Brigitte Lynette and Marta Estelle, don’t you think?”

“No love for your brothers?” Ingrid teased, stifling a yawn.

“Eventually. But for now,” he looked at the sleeping girls. “I’m good.”

* * *

“ANGIE!” Brigitte yelled, running towards her cousin, Angela stooping down to accept the hug. “I miss you! Marta keeps making a mess in our room, unlike you.”

“I miss you too,” Angela replied, smoothing out Brigitte’s hair. ‘You’ve grown! You’re taller than your papa!”

“Har har! Laugh it up…” Torbjorn grumbled as he walked away, Angela and Brigitte laughing. “My own family…”

“We love you Uncle Torbjorn!”

“I love you papa!” Brigitte screamed, turning her attention back to her cousin. “I haven’t seen you in a year, Angie! Tell me all about Switzerland! Please!!!!”

“Don’t you want to say hi to Fareeha?” Angela asked, Brigitte looking around at the mention of the name.

“Fareeha’s here?!” Brigitte cried, spotting the girl in a dress. “She’s in a dress…”

“Yeah. So?” Angela asked.

“She...she looks cute in a dress…” Brigitte said, turning away to wipe the grease stain from her cheek, cursing out loud when she couldn’t get it off.. “I...I’m gonna go see what Kimiko is doing.”

“But the pic..okay bye,” Angela muttered as she watched as her cousin, her 10 year old cousin run past everyone, blushing as the 12 year old Fareeha waved at her.

Torbjorn looked at his eldest run off, looking back at Angela who only smiled at him. He’d find out eventually, Angela always telling her aunt about things and Ingrid told him in turn. He felt Angela dip down, grinning as the camera flashed, taking a picture of all of those present in the hangar.

* * *

Angela yawned as she poured herself another cup of coffee, looking out to the backyard only to see Brigitte sitting by the workshop.

She poured a second cup, a smaller one, to carry over to her cousin. “Hey…”

“Hi.” Brigitte said, wiping away the tears that had previously fallen. Angela offered her the cup of coffee, the younger girl taking it but not drinking it yet. “Didn’t know you were home.”

“You aren’t supposed to be home,” Angela replied, Brigitte hiding her face in her arms. “Your Mama told me what happened.”

“They started it!” Brigitte yelled out, showing Angela the black eye and cut lip. “They made fun of Fareeha!”

“And Fareeha got into trouble for that too, I heard,” Angela sighed, patting her cousin. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

Silence took over, only the sound of Brigitte’s occasional sniffling filling the morning air. “Brigi, you know you can trust me.”

“I hate it over there…” Brigitte admitted, putting down the cup to hug herself tighter. “I hate it. I hate it!”

“Brigi,” Angela said, patting the girl on the shoulder, sitting on the grass beside to listen to her cousin. “You know you can tell me anything, right? It wont go to your mama and papa.”

“You promise?”

“I promise on _Herr Hase,_ I will not tell your parents,” Angela replied.

Brigitte sighed, rubbing her face on her sleeve. “I...I got into a fight because a friend of mine confessed she liked another girl. I was happy for her, because you were like her too.” Angela kept quiet as she continued. “But then these jerks started making fun of her, started shoving her….So I punched one of them.”

“And Fareeha?” Angela asked, Brigitte sighing.

“She came to help me.” Brigitte said. “Because of it, she’s being sent back to Egypt! I’m losing my friend! But she doesn’t seem to care... She says she’s gonna follow her ami’s footsteps. Her Papa’s footsteps...That she’s join Overwatch when she’s old enough and be beside you and Reinhardt and Papa….”

“She’s been angry at Auntie Ana. All the fighting they do makes her really angry.,” Brigitte said. “She...doesn’t want to hurt Auntie Ana but she so wants to join you guys so much.”  Brigitte sighed, looking at her cousin. “If she goes back...I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.”

“Come here Brigi,”  Angela whispered, hugging Brigitte. She could see that Ingrid was watching them, David on her hip. “You and Fareeha...You guys have something special. I know it. You know it. If you guys are meant to be, then somehow, some way, you guys will meet again, okay?”

“Okay…” Brigitte said, wiping the tears on her sleeve again. “Did you ever confess to that girl you liked?”

“I did,” Angela replied. “It didn’t go well.”

“Ah…”

“But doesn’t mean there isn’t some else out there for me. We’ll find who is meant for us. You’ll see.”

* * *

“Lindholm! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Gustav said, wiping his hands on his pants as he came in to give Torbjorn a hug. “Overwatch been keeping ya from us!”

“They have, but can’t say I miss the smell of you lot,” Torbjorn teased, earning laughs from everyone else in the room.

“We all showered since you came by, thank you!” Johannes called out from above, making a show of smelling his armpit, shaking his head afterwards. “Still fresh!”

“Ignore the old stink ball up there. What can I do you for?” Gustav asked, Torbjorn pointing to the doors of the bay. “I see.”

Brigitte stood in awe of the Titan, taking a picture with her phone before joining her father with the rest of the Ironclad members. “Hello!”

“About time!” Tage shouted, using a chain to bring himself down from the Titan he was working on. “Brigitte! Finally joining our ranks! This calls for a celebration!”

“Welcome to the Guild, Lass!” Johannes yelled from above. “EY! Likke! Viggo! Svea! Lindholm’s finally joining us! Grab the booze!” A chorus of cheers from the back of the workshop erupted, music suddenly being blasted from the speakers. Tage lead Brigitte away, Likke and Svea both enveloping Brigitte into a hug as she was given a drink and shown around.

“My how time flies...” Gustav said, patting Torbjorn on the shoulder. “We’re not going to go easy on her just because she’s your daughter, Torbjorn. Hope she knows what she’s getting into by joining us.”

“She knows,” Torbjorn said as he watched Brigitte down a shot of vodka, smiling as she was poured another one. “She knows this will be hard work. But hard work pays off.”

* * *

“I’m going with you!” Brigitte said, making everyone in the room turn to her. Reinhardt stood in shock at the proclamation, Brigitte still huffing from her run into the room. “I’m going with him!”

“Absolutely not!” Angela cried out, standing up in protest. “You’re only 21!”

“And you were already in Overwatch by that age!” Brigitte argued, turning away from her cousin to face her father. “Papa, please. Let me go with Reinhardt. He needs us. One of us has to be there for him. He’s family too!”

“Uncle…” Angela started, Torbjorn raising his hand to stop both girls. To his left stood his eldest, grease still on her face from coming back from working at the guild. Every bit of Brigitte screamed Ingrid’s fiery personality from her younger days, red hair to match. To his right stood Angela, pleading blue eyes reminding him so much of his fallen sister in law. If Ingrid would have had their daughter’s hair, it would have been like looking back in time.

“Reinhardt,” Torbjorn said, tossing a set of keys at his old friend. “Get so much of a scratch on my daughter and I swear to you, I will find you and kill you myself!”

Reinhardt laughed, Angela throwing up her hands in defeat. “Sometimes, I’m not sure why I even bother…”

“You need not worry, old friend. Brigitte will be safe with me. She wants to see the world. I want to continue fighting. Together, as knight and squire, we will right the wrongs all over Europe, at least.”

Torbjorn sighed, Angela scolding Reinhardt in German, High German at that, about how she still disapproves of him dragging her cousin around Europe on his crusade. “Your Mama’s going to kill me…”

“Only a Lindholm can keep up with a Wilhelm,” Brigitte repeated to him. “She’ll understand.”

* * *

Brigitte sighed, watching as Reinhardt placed the token by his master. All her life, Overwatch had been there. Mostly. Even after its fall, she and her family still felt the constant reminders of it.

It started with the small town, their help freeing them from the influence of the robbers and gangs. Soon after, she hears from Angela, far out in the Iraq saying that, while she was fine, someone was asking for her help. Someone they hadn’t heard from in a long time. Her cousin left it at that, promises of another call later as the doctor was called to the field once again.

News from London, from Numbani and Gibraltar kept popping up too frequently to be a coincidence. Her Papa came home with a Bastion unit…

Brigitte sighed, Reinhardt telling her he must answer this recall. This new call to arms.

“If you’re going back, I’m coming with you,” she replied.

“No. I made a promise to your father to keep you from harm. To make sure you’re not hurt,” Reinhardt said, Brigitte pushing away from him.

“And if I’m not there, who’s going to keep you from harm? Who’s gonna fix your armour and make sure everything is in working order?” She asked him, Reinhardt not responding. “I’ve been with you through thick and thin, Uncle Reinhardt. You know what I’m capable of.”

Reinhardt sighed, chuckle escaping him as he clasped his hand on her shoulder. “Fitting we are here then, where my master passed the torch to me.” He looked back at Balderich, down to Brigitte and laughed. “You are no longer my squire.”

“Still don’t get why you insist on the knight and squire thing….”

“You are now a knight, like me!”

“Fucking finally!”

“Language young lady!”

* * *

Fareeha watched as Winston showed Brigitte and Reinhardt around, following them until they got out of view only to watch them still on the cameras.

Reinhardt - her childhood hero - the person who she looked up to the most, even more than her own parents, looked tired but lively. He was still as big as she remembered, although there were far more scars on his body, some looking fresh.

Beside him was Brigitte. Fareeha caught herself doing a double take at how much Brigitte had changed. No longer was she the small girl that followed her around asking her to play in the depths of the engineering wing. Muscles rippled as the girl on the screen crossed her arms, taking everything in while pointing at other things.

She remembered their early adventures together, towers built, pranks pulled on both Jesse and Angela before both teenagers would run them out of their respective areas.

But now…

“You’re staring a lot at her,” Lena commented, giving her wink.

“We used to be best friends. We grew up on base together. Went to the same boarding school and all.” Fareeha replied, still watching the trio go through the base. “She’s grown up…”

She could feel Lena watching her, the tell all grin on the younger woman’s face lighting up with mischief Fareeha didn’t want to be part of. “No, Oxton.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know that look!”

“What look?”

“The ‘I’m gonna set you up with her’ look.” Fareeha said, lunging for her fellow pilot before Lena blinked away.

“So you do like her!” Lean teased, laughing as Fareeha lunged and missed again. “Awww! The two legacy babies. Now both joining Overwatch together.”

“I will murder you in your sleep…” Fareeha grumbled. “And come on! Look at her!”

“Look at you! You’re as jacked as her!”

“But she carries it so much better! And did you see her shirt?!”

“I wasn’t checking out Torb’s daughter, Fareeha,” Lena said, zipping to Fareeha’s side. “Don’t worry love. I won’t play matchmaker.”

Fareeha let out a deep breath before Lena zipped over to the door, full smirk on her face as she winked at her. “I’ll let Angie to do it instead.”

“LENA!!!”

* * *

The hum of an old school radio was the only thing Fareeha could hear as she rounded the corner. The engineering wing was dark, except for the lone light at the far corner, where she knew Reinhardt’s equipment was stored.

_“Brigitte was my squire!” Reinhardt told her when they finally were able to sit down and catch up. “Hell of an engineer. Takes after her father in that sense. But also loves to bake, LIKE INGRID!”_

Fareeha sighed, waving her hand on the panel, lights flickering on at the command. The VTOL they had used earlier that day still showed the marks from the battle, Fareeha already dreading the repairs she’d have to make before the bird can fly again.

It had been a taxing day with mix results. They were alerted about a small Talon cell, deep within the Black Forest. Reinhardt volunteered to go, Angela shutting him down immediately, citing his injuries as the main reason not to put the old man in the front lines again. Instead, Brigitte volunteered to come and guide them, having been in the area recently with Reinhardt.

At first, Angela refused, a shouting match in both Swedish and German coming from the cousins but in the end, Brigitte won out, the smirk on the younger’s face a direct contrast to the frown on her cousin’s.

When Brigitte stepped out in her own suit of armour, mace and shield in hand, Angela had to contest on letting her in come. Brigitte had both the knowledge of the area and the means to do so. The only problem now was the Talon cell.

“Hey,” Fareeha heard, snapping her out of her reverie. Brigitte didn’t bother looking up, continuing her repairs on her disassembled shield.

“Hi,” Fareeha replied, walking up to the bench. “Rough first day, huh?”

A hum of acknowledgement came from the younger girl, pencil scratches on the blueprints in front of her. Fareeha sighed, not sure how to approach the situation.

She wanted to understand how Brigitte felt. Her cousin, her own flesh and blood, lied to her, lied to everyone really, about the mission. There was no Talon cell. Just one very bloody, nearly dead Widowmaker surrounded by a lot of Angela’s technology.

The screaming match between Angela, Lena and Brigitte that ensued still gave her a  headache thinking about it.

Lena refused to bring Widowmaker on board, hurt that Angela would keep this a secret from her.

Angela refused to board without Amélie, everyone flinching at the casual use of Widowmaker’s old name. No one thought of her as Amélie anymore. But Angela stood firm.

Brigitte refused to come without her cousin, reminding everyone that they were still deep in Talon territory.

In the end, Angela won out. Whether it was an act of defiance or a lapse in judgement, Lena took off without stealth being engaged. Towers picked up on them almost immediately, shooting at them. Lena stormed off as soon as they landed, Angela gathered everything she needed to instruct her her small team of doctors on how to best save Widowmaker, given her condition.

Brigitte hid herself here. “Look Brigitte...”

“You never wrote.”

“What?” Fareeha questioned, taken back by what the other said.

“You promised to write to me, back before you left for Egypt. You promised to write to me but no letters ever came,” Brigitte said, not looking from her work. Fareeha stood by, at a loss for words.

“I...I’m sorry,” Fareeha finally replied after some time. “‘I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too.”

* * *

“About Widowmaker,” Brigitte started, bouncing on her feet as she dodged another strike from Angela, the follow up narrowly missing her nose.

“Amélie,” Angela corrected, pivoting to catch the punch, pushing her cousin away from her. “She has a name.”

“Countess Guillard,” Brigitte mocked, kicking up towards Angela’s face only to be flipped onto the mat as Angela grabbed her foot to throw her down. “How long?”

“4 months…” Angela replied, lying down beside her.

“So before the recall?”

“Not sure why but she saved me when I was in Hyderabad,” Angela supplied, breath evening out.

“Talon will be pissed if they find out their “prized” science experiment is with us.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep beating them.”

“You seem confident about all of this,” Brigitte pointed out, Angela laughing as she stood up, holding out a hand to pick up the younger girl.

“I have you here. Two Lindholms working against Talon? They don't stand a chance.”

“You know what’s better than two?” Brigitte said, pulling Angela in for a hug. “Three.”

* * *

“No.” Torbjorn said, huffing as he walked past his niece and eldest to get to the doors of the workshop. “I’m not going back to that!”

“But Uncle -”

“But Papa!” both girls started to argue when they heard a beeping from the corner of the room. Brigitte looked around, only to notice a bird fly into the open window, landing on top of… “Is….Is that a Bastion Unit?!”

Angela stood still but quirked an eyebrow when the Bastion unit chimed and waved hello. Torbjorn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked back in. “I found it when the government wanted me to check out the coast. I was protecting the wildlife in the area. It seems to be malfunctioning.”

“‘ _The Scourge of the Omnic War_ ’ and you have one in your workshop, Uncle,” Angela reminded him, waving back at the Omnic. “But I can see why you say it’s malfunctioning.”

“Does Mama know this is in here?” Brigitte asked, eyeing the Bastion unit closely. The bird on its shoulder chriped and the Bastion unit whistled.

“She does and she wants it out,” Torbjorn advised. “I don’t know where else to...OH NO. NO! NO! NO!”

Brigitte only grinned at her father, Angela shaking her head as Torbjorn continued to lecture his eldest of the dangers of the E54 class.

In the house, Ingrid sighed, setting the table for everyone, Reinhardt entertaining the rest of the children with another story from his youth.

* * *

Fareeha adjusted another bolt, wiping the sweat of her brow when she finished. “Try it again, Lena!”

“Roger!” she heard as the engines to the secondary VTOL powered up. “Everything is stable in here. Good job, Cap!”

“One problem down,” Fareeha muttered as she watched Brigitte, Angela and Amelie pile out of the bus. Lena still didn’t trust Widowmaker, and had been keeping her distance but for Angela’s sake, she tolerated the woman’s presence. Fareeha kept her distance as well, with the past deeds of the sniper and her own family still fresh.

But Angela seemed happy with her. Widowmaker seemed to be recovering, whatever Talon did to her now being ‘fixed’ by Angela. It had hurt Lena more than her, Lena and Angela being good friends from before. To see someone so close with someone who nearly killed her…

“Hey!” Brigite called out from under them. “We...kinda need your help.”

“If it has something to do with her, I’ll pass,” Lena said outright.

“Yeah...It’s not her this time,” Brigitte replied, scratching her head.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”

_Boo doo boo doo!_

* * *

The integration of Bastion (and Ganymede) along with a very reluctant Torbjorn made life a lot easier for them. Angela got a royal lecturing from both his uncle and aunt but in the end, the approved of her relationship nonetheless.

More people answered the recall in due course; Genji,McCree and Mei all rejoined along with new additions in Zenyatta (Genji’s Master) and Lucio, the international DJ.

Fareeha found herself hiding from the festivities, Lucio’s addition signalled a party that she didn’t really want to take part in outside of the bare minimum time needed. She found herself in the hangar, doing tests on her Raptora suit when she heard the doors open and shut.

A sigh came from whomever entered, muttering in Swedish telling her exactly who it was. “Hi Brigitte.”

“Hey,” the girl replied, coming into view. “Didn’t realize you were in here.”

“Parties aren't really my thing,” Fareeha admitted, enlarging one of the diagnostic screens to adjust the fuel economy on her suit. “Why are you in here?”

“Parties aren't really my thing,” Brigitte repeated back, watching Fareeha go about her work. “Too loud, too many people.”

“Aren’t you part of the Ironclad Guild? The biggest engineering guild in Europe?” Fareeha pointed out.

“I think they’re the reason why I don’t like parties,” Brigitte admitted. “Need some help?”

“I’m almost done, actually,” Fareeha said, hearing a dejected sigh from the other woman. “But I’m free for the rest of the night, if you’d like to catch up.”

Brigitte smiled at her, Fareeha caught off guard at how much she missed that same smile from her childhood. “I’d like that, but truthfully, I’m here for something else…”

Before she could react, Brigitte cupped her face, the kiss on the lips a surprise. Brigitte pulled away, turning away but Fareeha caught her hand. She pulled her back, kissing Brigitte on the lips, only this time, it was reciprocated.

The broke off, panting after a couple of minutes, Brigitte flushed red. “I...I reread your letters, your last one especially...I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to them.” Fareeha apologized, getting a light shove as a response.

“I liked your way of responding,” Brigitte teased. “What now?”

“Think we can keep this a secret?”

“Angela will find out...which means Lena will find out...which means everyone will find out.” Brigitte said, sighing at the facts. “Papa will be happy.”

“My ami would be too.”

“Wait...what?”

Fareeha grinned. “About Ana…”

* * *

“Here,” Torbjorn said, placing a small wooden box on the bench. “Not saying anything but I thought you’d want this back.”

Brigitte looked at the box curiously. She remembered it from her childhood, days spent in the family workshop doing all sorts of things with metal and wood. “What is this?”

“Something you made, when you were 6. At first, I thought Angela helped you make it. But she didn’t. Even back then, I knew you were special.”

Brigitte opened it to see her mother’s wedding ring, on top was the ring she had helped Torbjorn make. “Mama’s ring...”

“When you’re ready…” Torbjorn said, noticing Fareeha by the door. “Take care of my daughter, Amari. Otherwise.”

“Angela already yelled at her, Papa,” Brigitte said, remembering the lecture her cousin did for both of them.

“I’ll protect her, Torbjorn. Don’t worry.”


End file.
